


Birds

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Drama, Horror, Season/Series 05
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-21
Updated: 2011-08-19
Packaged: 2018-09-03 07:20:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8702860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: First story of the series. Takes place at the beginning of Season 5. Sam and Dean are dealing with the beginning of the Apocalypse,and with the emotional baggage leftover. They find a case of killer birds in Georgia and investigate it, but can they repair their relationship before they're torn apart for good?





	1. In The Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).
> 
>  **Author's notes:** This story was my first slash story and the first story, period, that I'd written in a while sooo if it seems a little bit regressed in terms of writing in comparison to my newer stories... that's why haha. Hope you enjoy, though! This story begins a series that I'm very proud of :)

~Tissa, Georgia~

 

The afternoon sun shone down on the Southern country cornfield as locusts cried out among the trees. Summer was the hottest and muggiest time in the South, temperatures reaching past 100 at times. In the middle of the cornfield, in a small clearing, a couple lay spread out for the rays of the bright sunlight on a threadbare blanket. The young man lay with his arms behind his head as his girlfriend looked up at his face with a teasing smile as she raised one of her legs over his.

 

"You'd better be glad my dad's not home" the blonde in daisy dukes said, giggling when her boyfriend shifted against her tanned thigh. "Ever since he caught you coming out of my window, he's slept in the living room with his shotgun every night".

 

The boy opened his eyes in a squint against the sunlight, raising his eyebrows at her with a smirk as he grabbed hold of her leg and flipped them so that she was beneath him. "Well, if you'd have been quieter, he still wouldn't know about us" the dark-haired boy murmured against her ear, running a finger down her arm. 

 

The girl sighed, rolling her eyes and pushing him off her as she sat up. "Donny, when are we gonna leave this damn place?" She said, exasperated. "I'm so sick of living under his rules. I'm eighteen and he still doesn't let me date. Yet, he wonders why I have to sneak you in the house?". 

 

Donny simply smiled sadly, turning her head back toward him as moved closer to her again. "Soon, babe". She turned away from him still, rolling her eyes at him. He moved in front of her, glancing up into her hazel eyes as he brushed his lips across hers, then pressing them together. "I promise, Hayley" he said. "I promise".

 

Hayley pulled him over her as she fell back onto the blanket, their heated, sweaty skin barely separated by their slightly dirty short-sleeve shirts. Their mouths crashed together, hot and moist, as they began breathing harder. Hayley gripped the back of Donny's shirt, pulling him closer to her while his hand inched beneath her shirt towards the front of her bra.

 

A loud flutter sounded from within the walls of cornstalks, startling them apart. A crow landed a few feet away from their blanket, it's black, beady eyes staring at them unblinkingly. It let out a squawk, and Donny couldn't help his small chuckle when Hayley jumped. She smiled bashfully before Donny pulled her back into a kiss.

 

Hayley pulled away gently. "Not here" she said, smiling softly, her eyes looking between her boyfriend and the black bird nearby.

 

"Why not?" Donny said, grinning mischievously and sliding a few stray hairs behind her ear. "It's private enough, and we are already here. Who's gonna see us?". 

 

Hayley giggled but shook her head. "Not outside, baby. My dad doesn't really allow me out here". 

 

"That's the point, babe.." Donny whispered against her ear and began kissing down her neck. More fluttering sounded as two more crows landed on the ground down the row, pecking at the ground slightly, but glancing at the couple now and then. Hayley shivered and pulled away again, Donny sighing a little in irritation.

 

Donny followed her nervous gaze to the birds and scoffed a little. "They're just crows, babe". 

 

He shooed them away with his hands. "Get on! Go!" They retreated back a few feet, but two more joined them, all of them now staring at the two teenagers. 

 

A door slammed in the distance, and they both jumped. "Shit", Hayley said, her eyes closing in frustration. "That's my dad". 

 

As if on cue, "HAYLEY JEANETTE!!" was heard from yards away, outside the cornfield.

 

"Stay. Here." she said, slightly nervous, before planting a kiss on Donny's lips. She jumped up onto her feet and ran down the row, before diving to her right, toward the farmhouse in the distance. Donny watched her as she went, laying low on his stomach on the blanket. He huffed his breath into the dirt nervously, trying to listen for a shotgun cocking. Another crow landed on the ground, less than a foot from his face. 

 

"Get!" he hissed at the bird. It merely stared at him, unmoving, not even blinking before it cawed loudly. He flinched and tried swatting at the bird. The bird jumped out of the way, flapping it's wings violently, and landed on the crown of his head, sinking its talons into his scalp and began pecking at his face fiercely. Five more crows landed in front of him, joining the five behind him, as they watching the frightening scene with cold black eyes. 

 

Donny knocked the crow from his head, wiping the blood from his face with the back of his hand. He began backing away on his palms in fear, dragging across the dirt. He stumbled to his feet and charged down the dirt path a couple feet before a blow to the back of his head knocked him face-first into the dust.

 

Two crows landed on Donny's shoulder and another reclaimed a place on his head and began attacking again as others began to swarm the area around him. Another landed on his leg, ripping through his jeans with its maw and cawing with a deep, horrific screech before diving it's beak into his skin. He arched his back in pain and screamed out at the top of his lungs before a crow landed on his face and began clawing at him. 

 

Hayley, who'd been trying to distract her father from why she was in the cornfield, heard him yell out in the distance. She turned back toward the field in fright.

 

"Donny?" she whimpered. When yet another howl of pain came from the cornfield, she took off, running back to her boyfriend.

 

"Donny?!" her father gruffed in anger, followed his frantic daughter with his shotgun as she took off back into the cornfield. "Hayley!! Come back!!" he yelled in panic. 

 

The yells that had been sounding had died down as she swatted the stalks of corn out of her way. She finally came out into the row where Donny had been and stopped in her tracks, backing away, her breathing caught in her throat. She hit the ground on her knees, her eyes wide in shock as she tried to catch her breath. 

 

Her father finally busted through the wall of cornstalks behind her and dropped to his knees, also, checking his daughter for injuries. 

 

"Hayley, are you alright? You're not hurt, are you?" She weakly raised her hand, finger pointing past him at the ground and screamed at the top of her lungs, tears flowing freely now. 

 

He followed her finger, and gasped in shock, pulling her closer to him. He covered her eyes from the sight of Donny's half-skinned body, bone showing in some places, as crows continued to feast on his body, his eyes frozen open in terror, before a crow snatched the right one from its socket.

 

~Milton, Tennessee~

 

The bland, colorless walls. The outdated, barely functioning furniture. The muted TV. The itchy, uncomfortable bedspread. All constants in the life of Dean and Sam Winchester, that came along with the never-ending mission to save people from something. 

 

Tonight, however, the two young men who never reached the deepest, peaceful parts of sleep due to nightmares were not in the constant sync that they've forever been in. The sync that, with a look at one another, knew what each expression and thought meant. They could easily secure any job without speaking while attacking, being able to predict and match one another's move. That bond was shattered and spread out around their minds because Sam had chosen a demon over his own brother, and because of it, he'd fucked things up epically. Because just two days ago, Sam had unleashed Satan from his cage, Dean helpless to stop it.

 

To Dean, Sam wasn't his Sammy anymore. Not completely, anyway. He knew that Sam was suffering in guilt, grief, and the final throes of addiction to demon blood, but at the same time, he felt he deserved it. Serves him right for choosing Ruby over him. Ruby, the corruptive whore. Demon bitch. He could blame her, if he wanted. Hell, he blamed her for most of it. But it was ultimately Sam. Sam who'd made the choice to beat the hell out of Dean and walk out on him, tracking down Lillith to that nunnery with that bitch, Ruby, and jump-start the Apocalypse. All because he was on some power trip; wanted to be better than his big brother.

 

To be truthful, he was mostly hurt. Hurt that it was apparently no longer "Sam and Dean against the world" again. Hell, it never really had been. He'd chosen something "better" over Dean yet again. First, college. Now, a fucking demon?! But he'd let it go. One day. Maybe. Or maybe not, but he wasn't gonna let it get in the way of him doing what they did best: save people's lives. He refused to let Sam fuck that up, too.

 

He was gonna bury it down. Deep, past all the neglect his father had provided, the exhaustion with his life and the yearning for an "apple pie" life, and his hidden belief that he just wasn't good enough for anyone. Never had been. His baby brother had left him and then, his Dad had tossed him aside when he no longer had any use for him. 

 

Sam. His younger, moppy-headed brother lay in the bed opposite his. Dean was wide awake now. Pulled from his dreamless sleep with the reverie that'd been plaguing him since he'd had moment of peace after being beamed into an airplane away from Lucifer, and finally back on to sweet, sweet ground. He hadn't spoken two words to Sammy. All the anger, hurt, distrust. It cleared a little in his vision as he watched the younger man he'd practically raised sleeping four feet away from him. 

 

He watched the hidden hazel eyes underneath those lids moving around rapidly. Sam had always had a tendency to have nightmares after a job. Had since he was about fourteen, after his first hunt. Except, since Jess had died, Sam's dreams had consisted of Jess's burning body on the ceiling, of Dad telling him Dean he may have to kill Sam one day, even of Dean.

 

Except, the ones of Dean were the only peaceful dreams he'd had. Usually of Dean cradling him, whispering comfort into his ears like when they were younger. Sometimes, it was more. Sometimes it was sweaty, passionate, and a lustful fantasy. It didn't freak Sam out all that much. He'd learned in college that it was normal for guys to have homoerotic dreams. Even normal to have them about those closest to you, and Dean was pretty much the closest person he had. Or at least, he had been before...

 

What bothered him was the yearning to have his fantasies a reality. He'd never mentioned any of this to Dean, of course. That would've been grounds for a punch in the face and being disowned. So much for that now. He hadn't said anything to Dean, really. His guilt was too overwhelming. He'd managed to get out "Dean, I'm--" before Dean slammed the car door on him, waiting for him to get inside the car so they could find a hotel and figure out what to do next. 

 

Sam figured Dean would eventually say something. He'd even hoped he'd yell at him. Beat him. Kill him. Anything was better than his brother hating him. He realized he'd been pulled awake and felt eyes staring at him. Before his eyes were halfway open, Dean sat up in bed and threw his legs over the side.

 

"Up and at em, Sam", he said as he passed by Sam's bed. 

 

Cold and concise just like he deserved. It was actually more than he deserved. He'd hurt Dean yet again, he knew, by choosing something over his own brother. A demon, no less. He deserved to be drawn and quartered then chewed up by hellhounds. His chest ached for some sign that his brother still considered them brothers.

 

Sam sat up in bed, stretching slightly, but making no move to get up. He watched as Dean retrieved some clean clothes from his duffel bag, and walked to the bathroom. 

 

"Dean"

 

Dean stopped in his tracks, his eyes staring coldly and empty ahead, his fresh clothes choking in the grip of his right hand. 

 

"I'll never be able to make up for what I've done. I understand if you can never forgive me, and I understand if you hate me". 

 

Dean still hadn't moved. Flinched ever so slightly at the words "you hate me", but that was all. Sam felt like his heart was going to explode in overwhelming sorrow.

 

"But I'm sorry" Sam said, still watching his brother. "For everything. I should've listened to you". 

 

He breathed deep and held it, swallowing the thickness in his throat that threatened to take over. 

 

Dean finally turned his eyes to Sam, his face smiling grimly, eyes empty. "I don't hate you, Sam", Dean said. "You're my baby brother. I could never hate you". 

 

Sam felt like he'd been smothering and had finally been let loose by those words, a breath of relief coming up from his lungs.

 

Dean was gonna leave it at that, but stopped at the doorway to the bathroom, and said softly, "I just don't trust you." 

 

The door closed behind Dean, and his words knocked the air back out of Sam as tears took over. He wanted to die. He couldn't take this. Dean was he only person in the world he trusted. Counted on. Loved. And Sam had thrown it all away on an addiction, on a need to prove himself. On a demon. He wiped the tears from his eyes, and began to push it all deep down. 

 

He'd get Dean to trust him again, somehow. 

 

Just as the shower started in the bathroom, the cell phone next to his bed began ringing. He sighed, grabbed it, read the name on the screen and answered it. 

 

"Hey, Bobby". 

 

"Hey, Sam", he answered in his normal gruff voice. "How, uh, how are things?"

 

He'd let Sam have it when they'd gotten back to Bobby's after setting Lucifer free and trusting Ruby and so on. But usually, after Bobby had let off his steam, he was back to himself. He loved Dean and Sam like they were his own sons. They may be screw-ups, and Sam may have royally screwed up this time, but they were still his favorite screw-ups. Though he'd never say it, for fear of sounding like a woman. 

 

Sam glanced toward the bathroom, the shower going off just then, and sighed. "Bout how you'd expect".

 

"Got a job for you boys" Bobby said, making to change the subject. "A 19-year-old was found dead in a corn field, just minutes after he and his girlfriend were having a little picnic. Apparently, a flock of crows picked him clean apart." 

 

Sam raised his eyebrows in shock, reflexively. "Crows?" 

 

"Yeah, apparently there was no provoking them, other than shooing them away. But there was probably about twenty of em around the body by the time the police got there. Just doesn't make sense." 

 

Sam sighed quietly. "Alright, Bobby, thanks" he said, "We'll check it out". 

 

"Sam" Bobby said, in a stern, worried tone. "Give it time. He knows you're sorry. That's not the problem." 

 

Sam tried to ignore the gaping hole in his chest that seemed to deepen at that thought. "Yeah, I know. Thanks, Bobby." 

 

"Take care, Sam"

 

"Yeah, you, too" 

 

Dean walked out of the bathroom just as Sam hung up. 

 

"Bobby found us a job in Georgia. Five hours if we hit the road." Sam said softly, keeping it about the business.

 

He got up, averting his eyes from Dean's still empty gaze, gathering his clean clothes to get his own shower. 

 

"Okay, well, guess we'll leave in an hour" Dean said, watching Sam out of the corner of his eye as he began packing up his own stuff.

 

Sam, focusing on his duffel bag, simply nodded silently. He was fine with Dean calling the shots again, if that meant they could somehow just get back some piece of what they had. He wanted their old life back. Before Ruby. Before Lilith. Before damned angels. Back when it was just the two of them. 

 

"Sam" Dean said. 

 

Sam looked up with those wounded puppy dog eyes, fear barely hidden behind them. It killed Dean, but his distrust overwhelmed, still, and they had a job to do. They couldn't just act like some couple after the wife cheated. Dean felt a growl of anger rise up within him at that thought but he shook it away.

 

"Look, just-- let's just put all this crap between us away for now", Dean said. "We've gotta focus on this job." 

 

He saw Sam flinch a little, and the hurt dig deeper, and Dean felt slightly more guilty. 

 

"Yeah, okay" Sam said looking more like a kicked puppy than Dean had ever seen him. He headed to the bathroom door, closing it behind him, before Dean could say anymore. 

 

"Great" Dean said, sighing. He grabbed hold of his duffel bag and stomped out the hotel room door.


	2. Miles Away

  
Author's notes: Again, I'm having to go back and fine-tune this story as it was my first fanfic. So, forgive how long it's taking to get it uploaded! Feel free to leave reviews! :) please and thank you! XO, A  


* * *

Sam dried his hair off with the hotel standard white towel that had been hanging on a rack beside the sink. When he had finished, he sighed and gave himself a once-over in the mirror. He looked like hell. His skin was pale and sickly looking, dark circles under his eyes giving him the look of a terminally ill patient. His lips were chapped and cracking in some places, and his eyes were slightly bloodshot. Sam stared at himself for a few moments, taking in the effects of what he'd done to himself.

 

He'd betrayed Dean. He'd chosen an lying, evil demon slut over his own brother, and this is where it had gotten him. His skull felt like it was disintegrating from the inside out, pounding worse than any migraine or hangover headache he'd ever had in his life. He felt like his veins were itching beneath his skin, but they were his veins, craving for more of that dark liquid he was having withdrawals to. From his reflection, he could see he was shaking slightly, the need shaking him from his core. He'd done this to himself. To Dean. And now, he had to pay for it.

 

A knock sounded from the door, causing Sam to jump. "Hurry, Sam" Dean said on the other side. "Time to go."

 

Sam let out another weary sigh. Today would be a long day of discomfort and awkwardness, living with the memories of everything that had happened still lying between them. It made Sam's heart ache and his stomach clench. To add on top of all of this, his dreams about Dean were plaguing his thoughts. He took in a deep breath and let it out shakily, gave himself one last look and turned to face the day. When Sam exited the bathroom, he saw only his dirty laundry bag was left out. Dean had packed everything while he was in the shower. He threw his clothes in the bag and carried it out to the car. 

 

Dean was leaning against the driver's side door, arms crossed, staring up at the clouds drifting across the blue sky lazily. Sam walked out of the hotel room and watched him for a moment, and met his eyes. They were a bright, mesmerizing green in the morning light, carefully assessing Sam. It wasn't a judgmental or cold glance like he'd expected. It tugged on Sam's heart, made him want to walk over to his brother and hug him. After a moment, something hazed over in them, as if guarding against Sam and Dean faced away from him.

 

Sam walked round the car, tossed his bag into the still open trunk and closed it. He looked over and saw that Dean was still leaning against the car, but looking at the ground, so he joined him on his left side. He took a deep breath before looking over at his brother.

 

"I'll never choose anyone over you again, Dean." 

 

The statement shook Dean from his reverie. He looked up at Sam with empty eyes. When he didn't say anything, Sam pressed on, feeling more and more nervous by the moment. "I've learned my lesson. School, demons, none of them will come between us again. I promise" 

 

Dean scoffed, eyes narrowing into a glare and he stepped forward, turning to stand in front of Sam.

 

"You can't promise me that" Dean said, his temper beginning to flare. "So don't you dare try, Sam." 

 

"I can promise that" Sam said, standing his ground, meeting his brother's eyes. "I'm gonna prove it to you." 

 

Dean snorted a laugh, and stepped around Sam. "Yeah. Okay." 

 

Sam closed his eyes and took in a deep breath before looking up at the heavens for a moment. He got into the car just as Dean turned the ignition. So much for working that out, Sam thought. Dean pulled out of the parking lot, and they were back on the road again. 

 

Cold silence filled the space between them yet again. 

 

'I promise.' What bullshit, Dean thought. He lied about quitting his freaky psychic powers. He'd chosen to drink demon blood and become some all powerful, fucked-up superhuman rather than trust Dean. His damn self-righteousness made him believe he was doing it for the right reasons. That keeping it a secret from Dean was for the best. That he was doing it to save Dean. 

 

Bullshit. All bullshit. Sam did it to himself and he deserved whatever he got. He sighed and he saw Sam glance sadly over at him. He wished he could simply forgive Sam and move on. They didn't need this crap between them right now. It was dangerous in their line of work to be distracted by things like emotions. Exactly the reason why he was raised to be "Daddy's Little Soldier" as Sam had thrown in his face before. He had emotions. He just refused to show them or let em out because it could get them killed. He couldn't deal with this right now. 

 

Sam leaned his head against the cool window and closed his eyes. He was in absolute misery. All he wanted was to--to what? Was he about to let the words "hug Dean" finish that sentence? He was 'touchy-feely' as Dean says, and everything but, this wasn't just a need for comfort. This was a need to love Dean. To assure him that he'd never let anyone or anything ruin what they had again. 

 

He'd never ruin it again by walking out on Dean and leaving him alone. He'd felt horrible about it from the moment Ruby confessed what she'd done. What he had done. Since he'd started thinking about how he chose her-- that fucking demon-whore-- over Dean, he began thinking about everything he'd ever done to hurt Dean. And he regretted it, immensely. Leaving for Stanford. Desiring "normal" when he had Dean. Drinking demon blood. Beating the hell out of Dean, when he was trying to help Sam. Siding with Ruby. He appreciated and loved Dean more than he ever had in his entire life. All of it put Sam in an ocean of guilt. And Dean was leaving him there to drown.

 

***********

 

They pulled into the hotel parking lot and Dean turned the sound of Motorhead blaring in the car to a dull rumble. "Gonna go check in" he said, glancing Sam's way to receive the briefest nod from him before getting out of the car.

 

Sam looked around the parking lot and sighed. With everything that had changed between him and Dean over the past few days, it was kind of refreshing to know that this motel was the same as all the others he'd known all of his life. He closed his eyes for a moment and blew out a frustrated breath. If things were gonna start getting better, Sam was gonna have to make the first move. He was the one that caused this, after all. 

 

The driver's side door opened and Dean peered in at him as he lifted the front seat to grab his duffel bag. Sam had dozed off in the few minutes that he'd been at the front desk. He looked terrible. He didn't just look exhausted, he looked sickly. It broke Dean's heart and made him sick to his stomach that he couldn't prevent this. Big Brother Dean couldn't put Sammy back together with hugs, kisses and reassurance this time. He closed his eyes for a moment to calm himself down before slapping a hand down on the roof of the car, shocking Sam out of his sleep with a shock.

 

"Wake up, princess. We got a room for you to nap in."

 

"Nah, I'm good. Think I'm gonna do a bit of research" Sam said with a small smile as he stretched, ignoring his itching, aching body and pounding head and trying to pass off as normal. Judging by the look on Dean's face, it didn't work. Dean just shook his head disapprovingly at him and closed the door behind him as he walked to the hotel room.

 

Sam got out of the car and grabbed his duffel bag out of the backseat as well. He tried to ignore the fact that Dean's voice was just as cold and empty as it had been earlier. At least he was making an effort for things to get better. Or back to normal, at least. That was Dean's way of dealing with things. Hide from emotions and pretend that the elephant in the room didn't exist. Until eventually they had a heart to heart and they fleshed everything out. Sadly, Sam didn't see that happening right now. Plus he wasn't sure he wanted to hear what Dean would flesh out. It'd help if he'd just look at Sam like he was still his brother and not some broken tool. Pathetic. Useless.

 

They got in the hotel room and Dean pulled his boots off and flopped down on the bed and turned on the TV, pointedly not looking at Sam. Sam watched him from the door for a moment, shaking ever so slightly from the wrath of addiction and forgetting what it was exactly he was supposed to be doing. Dean finally looked over, annoyed, towards Sam standing there looking lost. He frowned, forgetting that he was supposed to be giving him the cold shoulder.

 

"Sam?" Dean said, moving to put his feet on the side of the bed and leaning forward, trying to catch Sam's distant eyes.

 

Sam looked up then, from worn eyes and some trace of him returned. He laughed sheepishly and rubbed his neck shakily. "Sorry, I-.."

 

"What's the matter?" Dean said, so genuinely worried that Sam had to look back at his brother. He looked down at his feet and noticed his laptop case near his duffel bag.

 

"Oh.. research" Sam said, remembering and trying to muddle through the buzzing in his head to pick it up and walk over to his own bed across the room, feeling Dean's worried gaze follow him as he did.

 

He shook his head, trying to clear it and relaxing when Dean turned his attention back to the TV and resorted to watching Sam every moment or so. Sam pulled up several news reports online from Tissa, Georgia and pulled up an archive of the town. Finally, Dean, unable to focus on the program with his junkie of a brother on his mind abandoned it and walked over to Sam's bed. He stood there for a moment waiting for Sam to notice him, but when he didn't he sighed and walked over to the other side and sat down on the side of the bed peering at the screen from Sam's side.

 

"What've you got?" Dean said.

 

Sam looked over at him and jumped back, surprised by how close Dean was. He blushed when Dean looked at him like he was crazy.

 

"Whoa, Sam, chill" Dean said, rolling his eyes and leaned even closer toward the screen. "I just wanna know what you've found on the case"

 

Sam shook his head again, as if trying to clear it and then nodded. "Okay, well the town has always been pretty peaceful. Hell, the jail stays empty apart from the occasional wandering drunk". Dean followed Sam's pointer to another tab on the computer and watched where he scrolled down. "I've been looking up crime records here and up until now, the last bird-related death was about 17 years ago, a 30 year old woman, the farmer's wife. By the time the police finally got there, the birds had long picked her bones clean. It's weird." 

 

Dean had to admit, even with everything going on, the familiarity of this whole scenario was comforting. So was Sam's voice, which he hadn't heard at length for a while. Intelligent and warm. His body heat, that was comforting, too, Dean realized. What the hell was he thinking about that for?

 

"So, what're we thinking?" Dean said, tearing his eyes from the screen to look at this brother. He looked even worse in the bluish light from the laptop screen. But that didn't stop his stomach from doing that weird little flip when he met Sam's eyes. "Demonic birds? Some kind of spell? What?" 

 

Sam had to push away the comforting sigh that threatened to push out of him when he heard Dean sounding like the old one. "I don't really know. This is really unusual. Birds aren't usually so violent and crows, which were apparently the birds who attacked this Donny kid, don't really even eat meat, much less attack in flocks like this." He looked back over at Dean, glancing at how close he was to him. "I say we go and see what the girl or her father have to say about it." 

 

"Alright then!" Dean said, clapping his hands together. "We'll grab some lunch and head on over." 

 

He grinned and Sam couldn't help but smile back at Dean's enthusiasm for a hunt and food. It was so like the old them that Sam felt everything, even the demon blood fade away from the sight of it reaching Dean's green eyes. Just as soon as he got his hope up, though, Dean's grin faded from his face and Sam watched in silent disappointment he stood up and walked out the door, leaving Sam alone. 

 

Dean looked straight down at the ground the whole way to the Impala, opening the door and slamming it behind him with a frustrated grunt. What in the hell was going on with him that he couldn't be near Sam without being pissed off at him or wanting to…kiss him? And which one was really the better alternative here? Dean rolled his eyes at that thought and looked up when Sam came out of the hotel room.

 

 

Sam sighed got in the car, closing the door behind him and sinking back into silence. It was best to just not even talk, he thought as he pulled on his seatbelt. Better that than leave Dean openings to scold him. Or worse, encourage him to think that they could be something they couldn't. A couple minutes later after they'd been driving, though, Dean ruined those plans.

 

"Why?" Dean said, out of nowhere, cutting through the odd silence that filled the car, replacing the normal boom of classic rock.

 

Sam looked up at him, honestly confused and a tad bit nervous. "..Why, what?" 

 

"Why did you go with her, Sam?" Dean said, bluntly. He was looking straight ahead, trying to keep his anger at bay, his knuckles whitening around the steering wheel. "I told you we could kill Lillith together. You and me, like always. Without that bitch. And you still fucking chose her. So why?" 

 

Sam started panicking slightly, honestly afraid of what to say. He just decided to be honest. "You know why, Dean. I wanted to be stronger than you. I was tired of being just your little brother. I've always been the freak. After we found out I was psychic and there was demon blood in me, even you started to think so."

 

Dean snapped his head in his direction, eyes in a glare and mouth open to disagree, but Sam stopped him. "No, it's the truth, and I know it. I know I'm a freak. I mean, look at me now." Sam said with a mirthless laugh. 

 

Dean swallowed at Sam's admission, all of them, really. "Sammy…" Dean began, but with a look from Sam, allowed him to finish.

 

"It's not your fault that I've done this to myself, but part of it was also that I wanted to be able to save you for once. Save the world for you." Sam said. "I mean, yeah, I wanted to show that I was capable and strong enough to do it myself, but I felt like.. Like I could sort of take all this off your shoulders." 

 

With those last few words, Sam nervously reached out and squeezed Dean's shoulder affectionately. He could see the wheels turning in Dean's mind. "You've taken care of me all my life, Dean. I thought I could try and do the same for once. I just… went about the wrong way, I guess."

 

Sam watched Dean for a moment, then swallowed and took his hand away, turning to look out the window instead as the car turned to awkward silence. Dean felt a warming sensation in his chest that began to melt away the doubt and distrust he felt toward Sam. He still didn't trust Sam, but he was beginning to understand him. To forgive him. 

 

They pulled up to the diner and went inside. They took a corner booth, and began looking at the menu. Sam just sat his down and passed it aside, opting to look outside. Dean looked up from his, arching an eyebrow at him. 

 

"What?" he said. "Are you not gonna eat?" 

 

"Just not very hungry", Sam said with a shrug. It came off more as a twitch with how shaky he was. Damn, he looked horrible, Dean thought.

 

"Not hungry? Or not hungry for food?" Dean said, the words were out of Dean's mouth before he could stop them, and he instantly regretted it. Hurt flashed across Sam's face from the cruel jab and Dean wanted to be kicked in the balls about a hundred times to take it all back. 

 

"No. Just not hungry" Sam said, pleading. "I told you I'm done with that stuff. For good. I promised you. I'd rather die than break that promise." 

 

He looked away from Dean in silence. Dean sighed and rubbed his forehead feeling the urge to punch himself grow by the second. "Look, Sam. I'm sorry--" 

 

"Don't be. I deserve it all." Sam said, still not looking, but pain barely concealed in his face and voice. 

 

"No. You don't." Dean said, earnestly, relaxing when Sam met his eyes, hazel and still fill of hurt.

 

"I'm trying. Really" Sam said, looking damn near bout to cry as he reached over to Dean with a shaky hand but stopped himself. "I just want us to be okay, Dean."

 

"Me too" Dean said, his own hand twitching to take hold of Sam's. 

 

The waitress came up then, red-haired and slightly frazzled, but otherwise very pretty,and they separated as asked for their orders. Dean ate his breakfast and they both sat in silence.


	3. Blood Garden

The Impala cruised up the long dirt driveway, sending rocks and dust flying everywhere. After a minute or two of winding around trees, the road opened up into a clearing, leading to an old, weathered farm house with a large cornfield spanning the left. They parked behind a slightly dirty, rusted pick-up truck. As they reached the front porch of the farm house, they were greeted by a disgruntled-looking old man in blue cover-alls (Sam ignored Dean's quiet comment about how all he needed was a straw hat and pitchfork) stepping out from the screen door. Through the screen behind him, they could both see a pretty young woman with long blonde hair watching them intently.

 

"Can I help you?" The farmer said, gruffly, his rough and wrinkled face scrunching into a scowl at the two younger men in suits. 

 

Sam smiled amiably at the man. "Sorry to bother you, Mr. Hamilton, I'm Sam Collins. This is my partner, Dean Wilde" Sam said, gesturing toward his brother, who nodded with a smile. "We just have a few questions about Donny Lane's death" Sam said. 

 

They heard a sharp intake of breath and both their smiles disappeared when they saw the young girl running back inside, sobbing. Mr. Hamilton didn't even look in her direction, just looked at his feet for a moment before hardening his gaze on them again.

 

"Look" Mr. Hamilton said. "I've already told the police everything I know. What more is there?" 

 

"Sir, we're sorry, but we think this isn't just a case for the local police" Dean said. 

 

Mr. Hamilton glared warily at the two young men for a moment, then jerked his head toward the door. Sam and Dean glanced at each other before following the man inside. They followed him into the kitchen with a dining room table separated by a small table. His daughter sat at the table, shoulders shaking slightly with her silent sobs.

 

"Hayley, go on upstairs and rest" Her father said, running a hand across her shoulder and pressing a kiss on her forehead. "You've barely had a wink in two days."

 

Hayley nodded slowly as she stood, staring at her feet with streaming eyes, then walked out of the room and upstairs. Mr. Hamilton took a seat at the table, then gestured for Dean and Sam joined him. They'd barely had a moment to breathe before Mr. Hamilton began speaking. 

 

"The first thing you need to know, is that.. I can't just leave this place. My farm brings me money. No, we may not be rich but we get by, so I'm not just staying here for the hell of it" Mr. Hamilton said, eyes settling on Sam then Dean and back again. The second thing you need to know, is that I'm not some crazy, senile old man. I know what I've seen, and those weren't normal birds. I have a feeling you know that, too."

 

Sam glanced at Dean before smiling nervously and leaning forward, locking his fingers. Dean seemed to be struggling to come up with an answer, so they ended up interrupting each other. 

 

"I, uh--"

 

"We--"

 

"Yeah, I know you're not really feds. I'm also not stupid" Mr. Hamilton said.

 

"We're hunters" Dean said, looking far more relaxed as himself than as Detective Wilde. "Crazy stuff is kind of our thing, sir."

 

He glanced at Sam for confirmation and Sam simply nodded at Mr. Hamilton. "I'm Sam, this is my brother, Dean" he said. "So what is it you'd like to tell us about what happened?"

 

The farmer nodded, then took a deep breath. "When my late wife and I first moved here, this land was dead. Abandoned. Absolutely no way that anything could've grown even a flower here, much less a blasted cornfield". 

 

Mr. Hamilton watched Sam and Dean's faces turn into expressions of confusion and then continued. "One day, a month or so after Hayley was born, my wife and I were taking a nap. I didn't hear her get up, or notice the screen door slam." 

 

His voice broke on the last sentence or so, and he choked back a sob, his hand going to cover his mouth. "It wasn't until I heard the screams that I woke up" Mr. Hamilton said, looking up at them with wide eyes. "I ran outside and saw the blackest cloud coming towards the cornfield. I realized that's where the screams where coming from. I ran into the field, but..they'd gotten her." 

 

He let out a loud sob and covered his mouth again and he breathed to calm himself down. He shook his head, tears freely flowing now and breathed in deeply and wiped his eyes. "Since then, the corn's grown no matter how little rain we have or how bad the soil is. I've forbidden Hayley from entering the cornfield. I don't even go in there." 

 

Dean's mouth was agape and Sam's brow was furrowed; they were both very much confused and bewildered. Yet this man was being totally honest with them, they could tell. 

 

"So.. How is the corn growing?" Dean asked, after a moment. "Someone has to harvest it, don't they?" 

 

The farmer shook his head, eyes still wide with horror. "It grows by itself. Ever since the day Hayley's mother was--was killed, it's grown by itself. I only get the stalks closest to the fenceline and I'm always careful never to cross it. It just never stops growing." 

 

Dean's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Right.. So, you've never spoken to anyone about more fruitful crops in exchange for, say, a soul or blood?" 

 

The farmer gave him an incredulous look, absolutely speechless. 

 

"Guess not" Dean murmured to Sam. Sam gave Dean a swift kick in his ankle.

 

"Uh, well thanks for your time, Mr. Hamilton" Sam said with an apologetic smile on his face as he stood, fishing a card out of his jacket. "We'll be in touch.

 

"Just get the hell out of my house" the farmer growled at them as they exited the kitchen.

 

"Yes, sir" Sam said, pushing Dean out of the front door and back into the heat. Sam glared at Dean as soon as the door was slammed behind them.

 

"What?" Dean said, feigning innocence he'd never had. "You can't tell me that you didn't think old Farmer in the Dell back there wasn't into sacrificing pigs for a second there."

 

Sam rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Tact, Dean. I swear you've never had it."

 

Dean frowned as they reached the car and got in. "Hey, I'll have you know I have plenty of… tact.. whatever."

 

Sam simply snorted out a laugh as the car cranked and suppressed a groan as Motorhead started playing on the radio that Dean, of course, had to turn up. Thankfully, Dean didn't spin out of the driveway like Sam had thought he might. Once they were back on the road, heading back to their hotel, they returned to talk about the hunt, tense silence pressing in on them again.

 

"So, what are we thinking? Gotta be another pagan god, right?" Dean said. 

 

"I don't know. I've never heard of any who use flocks of birds to pick apart victims." Sam said, pulling a manila folder filled with papers of research out of the glove compartment. "It's all very…weird."

 

"Huh, so like every other thing we hunt" Dean scoffed, "Why don't you uh, check up on some history of the house?" 

 

"What are you gonna do?" Sam said raising an eyebrow at his brother. As usual, Dean was gonna try and stick him with all the work.

 

"I'm gonna go down to the bar, see if I can get some answers" Dean said, a slight gleam in his eye and a smirk that he tossed Sam's way.

 

"And maybe fuck a girl." Sam said, a little too tersely as his eyes narrowed.

 

Dean eyed him suspiciously. What the fuck was up Sam's ass all the sudden? "Yeah, so? It's been a while. Like, I don't know? Before the Apocalypse." 

 

Sam hadn't missed the hit directed at him and it made him feel like he could spit fucking venom at the bitterness that had returned to Dean's tone. He affected a fake smile and laugh, tried his best to hide his anger. 

 

"Well, go. Have fun" Sam said. "Try not to catch anything." 

 

Dean's head whipped back around in Sam's direction so fast, he was surprised he didn't get whiplash. "Sam, what the hell is your problem?"

 

"Nothing, Dean. Just--" Sam shook his head. "Just leave it."

 

They pulled up to the hotel parking lot just then, and Sam jumped out before Dean could say anything else, slamming the Impala's door behind him. Dean growled at the roughness with his baby and opened his door to shout at Sam. Sam had already opened the hotel room door and slammed it behind him, cutting Dean off before he even got a chance to speak.

 

Dean got back in the car and closed the door. He leaned back in the seat and rubbed his eyes, groaning. Suddenly, he felt guilty for even mentioning going to the bar to Sam, which was ridiculous. It's not like he and Sam were together. But.. that thought did do funny things to his gut that he didn't altogether like, but didn't altogether hate. Dean frowned and started the car, drowning his thoughts out with whatever music he had playing and drove off.

 

**********

 

Sam sat down on his not-too-comfy hotel bed and booted up his laptop and sat back against the wall, letting the back of his head smack against the wall as he let out a long breath. He was still fuming at Dean for going to a bar and banging chicks when he should be here with Sam. Sam's eyes snapped open and tried to think of whether he was jealous that Dean was out having fun or out having fun with women instead of…him?

 

He shouldn't have reacted the way he had. Dean was being amiable enough already, putting up with Sam after all he'd done, but Sam had just been overcome with jealousy. He was started to develop a furious need for Dean, in a way that was more than brotherly love or companionship. It was all ridiculous, however, because skirt-chasing Dean would never return his feelings anyway. 

 

He sighed and shook his head. They weren't supposed to be worrying with emotions. They had to work on this job. So, with that, Sam began looking up "obituaries in Tissa" from the past hundred years. Again, he sighed, slightly jealous of Dean, who he thought had the easier job sometimes. Cause Sam was jealous of the job. Right?

 

**********

 

Dean took a seat at the bar and ordered a quick shot of whiskey, the memory of Sam's earlier reaction still running over and over again in his mind. Was his reaction jealousy? Surely not. It had to be about the fact that Dean wasn't shoving his nose in old books or in a laptop, doing research. Right? Dean snorted at himself for being ridiculous. This was Sam. His brother. Sam was straight, no matter how much Dean picked on him about being otherwise. Sam had been with Madison and Sarah and Jess and that…demon bitch. Now, that thought did a number on Dean's stomach, made it burn in a way that wasn't too far from jealousy. What. The. Fuck.

 

"This is ridiculous" he'd accidentally growled aloud. 

 

"Girl troubles?" A sultry voice answered, startling him.

 

He turned to his right and met the busty red-head with soulful blue eyes. Before he could stop himself, his eyes were roving over her, taking in the way her wavy burning locks cascaded around her breasts and stopped just below them and the deep blue dress that fit her slender form well.

 

"Something like that" he said with a small smirk as his eyes swept back up to meet hers. 

 

"Where you from?" she said with a smile of her own, taking a seat next to Dean and ordering a shot for herself. She grinned at Dean's raised eyebrows after she took it down. 

 

"All over, really" Dean said, but then, surprisingly his mind turned to the hunt. "I've got a few questions, actually. Maybe you can help." 

 

"Anything you need" she said, extending her hand onto his thigh. Dean would've had to be an idiot to miss the emphasis on the word, 'anything'."My name's Marianne." 

 

He cleared his throat with a smile and edged away, ignoring the disappointment on her face. "Well, Marianne, did you know the young man, Donny Lane, that died on the Hamilton farm a few days ago?" Dean asked. 

 

"Actually, I was his teacher." She said, drawing away, eyes beginning to water. "Good kid. Straight A's and plans for college in New York."

 

"Sorry to bring it up" Dean said, passing her his own shot of whiskey before he pressed on. "So he didn't seem to be a bit distracted lately? Maybe not himself?" 

 

Marianne thought for a moment, then shook her head. "No, not at all. Perfectly fine. Absolutely head over heels for the Hamilton girl, but he managed to keep his grades up and he was determined to get out of here. Not exactly a fast-paced town around here." she said, raising another smile. 

 

"Don't get many good-looking men like you" her hand grazing his thigh again as the conversation took a turn back to Dean. Dean had to admire her…nerve.

 

Just then, his cell phone buzzed. He ignored the feeling of relief he got from the interruption and picked it up. "Yeah, Sam, what do ya got?". 

 

"Dean, I found the original owner of the land" Sam said. "A man by the name of John Mark Lorne." 

 

"Great. I'll be back in a few." Dean said as he ended the call. He looked back at the pretty redhead and smiled his million-watt smile. "Well, duty calls"


End file.
